


He's Dizzy and He's Dreamy

by MissC3PO



Category: Cars (Pixar Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Drinking, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, M/M, Mild Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-30
Updated: 2020-08-28
Packaged: 2021-03-01 18:34:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,600
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23931640
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissC3PO/pseuds/MissC3PO
Summary: McQueen hated that Italian racer. But after the strange events that the World Grand Prix threw at them, McQueen has been looking at Francesco Bernoulli as a friend, and even more.Human Cars AU
Relationships: Flo/Ramone (Cars), Francesco Bernoulli/Lightning McQueen
Comments: 9
Kudos: 44





	1. His Head's Up In The Clouds...

The day started out as a beautiful one. One could debate whether the rest of the day turned out as such. The sun was shining, the little town of Radiator Springs was clean and bustling, and Flo had a freezer full of cold drinks for the townspeople setting up hay bales for an event. The event was no other than the last leg of the World Grand Prix, a collection of the best race cars and drivers ever to exist. 

The last leg of this race was supposed to be completed in London, but some odd things happened involving spies and international conspiracy and race car gasoline and that race turned into a full-on action movie, minus the movie part. There were bombs involved too. 

The good thing was that no one was hurt. Well, except the bad guys, but they hurt lots of other people in the past, so they got what was coming for them. The racers who were injured in the race due to the explosive properties of the ‘All-in-All” fuel healed up well, and all seemed to return to normal. Minus the fact that Mater, Radiator Springs tow truck driver and scrap yard owner was a pseudo spy and had a hot spy girlfriend.

But race car racer McQueen was glad it was almost all over. He was a lot happier with the simpleness of racing without international conspiracy involved. His younger, Piston Cup racer self would have loved the wildness and intrigue of the Grand Prix conspiracy. But now he’d rather get to race then relax with his crew and girlfriend than fear that he was going to be flung into another crazy adventure.

McQueen was more than happy that all the healthy racers from the Grand Prix agreed to re-do the last leg of the race in the quaint town of Radiator Springs, his home. The townspeople were happy to oblige to the race and set up a racecourse through the town and around the dusty desert-like wilderness around it. Hay bales were set up around the town to create a racecourse, vendor booths built, and Flo spiffing up her gas station and store to get ready for the influx of people. McQueen helped point out a good starting point, and Ramone quickly painted up a starting line. Ramone ended up using his talents to make a trippy looking start line, but that was fine. McQueen stood over it while it dried, fascinated by his friend’s artwork. He was glad he had the time to look at such amazing things, from Ramone's artwork to the sunsets which seemed to set the canyons on fire. 

But soon the race was going to start, and McQueen needed to get prepared. He marched over to where his race car sat by the starting line, a beautiful cherry red race car with lightning and fire designs painted on it, courtesy of Ramone. He glanced over the Rust-eez stickers on the back, which made him chuckle under his breath. He sure hoped to visit Rusty and Dusty soon, they sure were fun for the young racer to be around. The two extroverted brothers seemed to treat McQueen as a younger brother, not just some paid advertising. That made him even more glad he was ‘stuck’ with those guys. 

As McQueen was glancing over his car, a taller man approached him from the back, a lanky shadow cast over McQueen.

“Ah, McQueen, so nice to see you,” a rich Italian voice filled McQueen’s ears above the chatter of the crowds around the rumbles of race cars. 

“And you too, Francesco,” McQueen tried to roll his r’s, but the American found himself having some troubles doing so. He became tongue tied, speaking in a confused gibberish that made Francesco laugh heartily.

“You are flattering, Mister McQueen,” the italian racer rubbed back his dark brown hair, “you really are flattering.”

“What? No!” McQueen shook his head, trying to not sound stupid, “that’s not what I meant! I just was,” McQueen couldn’t control the rosy blush that formed on his cheeks from embarrassment. But as he feared, that little blush gave Francesco more ammo. 

“Francesco can see that The Lightning McQueen has fallen for Numero Uno, me amore,” Francesco patted McQueen's head, since the italian racer was head and shoulders over the blonde Californian racer. 

Lightning huffed angrily, and turned around to his car. Lightning had to admit that Francesco was just a little bit hot, but that wasn’t something he would say out loud, especially not in front of Francesco, or Sally.

Sally was nowhere to be seen. Not near Flo’s, where most of McQueen's friends were hanging out, nor near the starting line. McQueen had a weird feeling that something was wrong, but he shook that feeling off and put on his racing helmet. Over the loudspeakers set up around the starting line, Brett Mustanger called out for racers to get prepared. The race was to start soon.

McQueen and the other racers hopped into their cars, exhilarated. One thing for sure was all the racers wanted a good, clean race. One without spies and gasoline conspiracies. 

McQueen sat in his car at the starting line, his helmet on tight and his radio and headphone crackling with life. The chatter of racers filled the radio waves, some talking about how nice of a place Radiator Springs was. McQueen had to agree to that. Francesco hailed him, giving him good luck, a very sassy sounding good luck. 

“Hey, did you see my new bumper stickers?” McQueen laughed at Francesco, who was behind him. “Ka-Ciao, Francesco.”

“Yes McQueen, very funny,” Francesco snorted, “not as funny as when Francesco did it, but still. Funny.” Francesco seemed to be shaking his head, “and did you also get the matching patches, eh?” 

“Yes, of course I did.” McQueen shifted in his seat, knowing that once the race was over, it would be Francesco looking at his rear. McQueen did the same at the Grand Prix party in Japan, which earned him some teasing from Francesco, Mater, and a mention in the tabloids. 

Soon, the green light appeared, and the racers were off. Francesco was in the lead, with McQueen behind him. McQueen sped up, knowing that the dirt tracks were coming up soon, and he would have an advantage against the italian racer and his ‘fragile’ formula car. The roar of engines filled his ears, and the internal chant of “I am speed” powered McQueen to push his car and his body to new extremes. 

Around and around the racers went, dodging each other and going from paved road to dirt track to paved road. Cars being pushed to the limits, bodies too. The exhilaration that came from speed and forces being teased.

Petal to the metal was how Lightning got his energy. Getting to slow down did that too, and he loved that. But there was still something about going faster than fast, quicker than quick, that made McQueen's heart beat differently, his mind somewhere else. 

Soon Francesco got to see some more “Ka-ciao Francesco” in his face, alongside dirt and dust being thrown around. But it was fun. Mater even joined in the race, using his now souped up tow truck with rockets. Yes, rockets. All McQueen could do was laugh. Francesco was confused. 

“You have the weirdest friends, Mister McQueen,” Francesco purred over the radio, sort of distracting McQueen. That voice suddenly made McQueen dizzy and dreamy. He was sort of in a dream. He felt fuzzy and ditzy, enough so that Francesco took the lead without McQueen noticing. That was until his radio crackled again.

“My, my, Mister McQueen, distracted are we?” 

“No!” McQueen shook his blush away, and sped up. This race was going to be a hard one.


	2. His Eyes Have Gone All Gleamy

The winner of the last leg of the World Grand Prix was Lightning McQueen. The good thing was no one really minded. Radiator Springs was his hometown, and he knew it well. Plus it was a nice ending to the Grand Prix. Racers got out of their race cars and congratulated McQueen, who was being raised up on the shoulders of his pit crew. 

“Doc ‘ll sure be proud of yah,” mater smiled at McQueen, his large buck teeth shining. McQueen smiled back, thinking of his pasted on mentor who taught him so much. He surely missed Doc Hudson, that couldn’t be denied.

But before McQueen was able to take a trip down memory lane, a voice jarred him out of his supor. 

“Congratulazioni McQueen!” Francesco waltzed up to the racer being held up by the Tow Truck driver and other small town citizens. Lightning McQueen was put down and patted on the back, a smile still showing on the racers face. “Buona gara, mio fellow racer,” Francesco patted McQueen on the back, his eyes shining from behind his designer Prada sunglasses. 

“Uh, good job to you too!” McQueen stammered, both confused on what the hell Francesco said to him with his soothing purr and in awe of how attractive the taller racer was. 

“Hello Mister Francesco Bernoulli, I’ma Mater, like To-Mater, but without da ‘ta’.” Mater quickly stepped in between the two racers, a huge smile on his tanned face.

“To-mater?”

“Oh!” Mater laughed, “you may not recognize me because of the outfit!” Mater was wearing his normal dirty leather overalls and stained white t-shirt, unlike his brown and black tux he wore while meeting Francesco in Japan.

“Ah yes, Francesco remembers you,” the italian grinned, patting Mater on the shoulder, “you were sure the life of the party, especially with those, blasters? What are those on your truck?”

“Mah rockets! I gotta keep them since I’ma-” Something rang in Mater’s pocket, and he quickly squeezed out of the little crowd.

“Huh, that’s weird,” McQueen shook his head, “But anyways, Mister Bernoulli, I was wondering if yah would,” McQueen shoved his hair away from his forehead to hide the blush that was forming, “would like to join my friends and I to a dinner party tonite? At the Wheel Well Motel?” He was hopping Francesco didn’t see his blush that was covering his freckled face. He felt like he was asking him out on a date, but McQueen never felt that way about asking Sally out on a date. Something was weird. McQueen gestured to Luigi for a pair of sunglasses. He hated the thought that Francesco could see him blushing. 

“Francesco would be thrilled to join Mr. McQueen and his friends for some American cuisine.” Francesco smiled, “Francesco will be there- what time?”

“Uh, seven? Would that work?” McQueen stammered, hoping he didn’t sound stupid. He also was starting to panic about Sally. He hadn’t seen her all day.

“”Seven it is!” Francesco smiled at McQueen and his friends and trotted off with the paparazzi.

“Shit.”  
“McQueen, what is a wrong?” Luigi asked, confused at McQueen’s outburst.

“Nothing… nothing…” McQueen shook his head, “Just meet me at the Wheel Well at six thirdy sharp.”


	3. It's Like No One's Around

The sunset came out soon enough and set the canyons on fire. Oranges and reds filled every corner of Radiator Springs, dying it like a tie-dyed shirt.

The Wheel Well became full of life and fun as the sun went down. There were drinks, dancing, karaoke, and much more. Lightning McQueen was of course in the middle of it all, socializing as the extroverted person he normally was. But he kept an eye out for Francesco, half hoping he wouldn’t come. 

Soon it was 6:30, and Luigi and Guido showed up. They both quickly manned the bar and became giving out tons of specially made drinks to fit each guests tastes. McQueen sauntered up to the bar, a smile plastered across his face.

“Good evening Mister McQueen,” Guido smiled, shaking a cocktail up, “what did you need us for?” 

“Uh well,” McQueen couldn’t quite remember why he had needed the two- a few drinks did that to the racer, “I uh, I have a song request for later tonite, could yah boys do that for me?”

“Sure Mister McQueen, we can do that!” Guido went back to mixing drinks and McQueen disappeared back into the crowd. He kept socializing until…

“Mister McQueen!” McQueen turned around to see Francesco standing over him, holding a Cardinale. He strode over to McQueen, a wide smile on his face. Francesco stopped in front of McQueen and quickly grabbed his hand and shook it. “Thank you for inviting Francesco to this party, Francesco didn’t know that you Americans could throw something so...” the taller man was trying to think of a word, "well.”

“Uh, thank you,” McQueen pulled away from the handshake, feeling self conscious. A few of the party goers had noticed the two, and McQueen was hoping there were no paparazzi in the crowd. It was a good thing there wasn't any, since McQueen’s a-game wasn’t great. 

“Francesco has una domanda, Mister McQueen,” the italian racer asked, placing a hand on McQueen’s shoulder. McQueen almost started to blush, the drinks were really getting to him.

“Y-yes Mister Bernoulli?” McQueen pulled away again, confusion over his feelings and Francesco’s gestures writing drunken lines on his pale face. He pushed some of his blonde hair out of his face, trying to look a little professional.

“What is this, karaoke, Francesco has been told would be happening here?” Francesco looked at McQueen with his seductive smile. McQueen smiled sweetly, and replied in a lightly drunken stupor:

“Leme show you.”

McQueen walked up onto the makeshift stage, where a young woman was singing softly some jazzy song. He smiled at Guido and Luigi, who moved to a small computer by the stage and hooked up some speakers. The young woman saw McQueen and handed him the mic she was holding. McQueen walked to the center of the stage, standing tall and proud. He saw Francesco looking at him with a slightly amused expression written on his face. 

“What am I doing…” McQueen smiled as Luigi started to play the song.

“Oh well, uh, you might think I’m crazy, to hang around with you,” McQueen sang, his southern twang showing up on the second verse. He couldn’t help it, it just did that.

“Maybe you think I’m lucky to have something to do.” McQueen glanced over to Francesco, who smiled in McQueen’s direction.

“But I think that it’s wild when you flash that fragile smile,” McQueen serenaded, his cheeks a rose pink. “You might think it's foolish what you put me through. You might think it’s crazy, but all I want is you.” A lump appeared in McQueens throat as his mind flashed to Sally, then back to Francesco, but the alcohol quickly pushed that away.

“Oh well uh, you might think I'm delirious the way I run you down, But somewhere, sometimes when you're curious I'll be back around.” McQueen almost laughed to himself, he sure did run Francesco down in the race earlier today.

“Oh, I think that you're wild and so uniquely styled.” The image that popped into McQueens mind was Francesco’s jet black hair, glittering brown eyes, and wild butt patches, “You might think it's foolish, this chancy rendezvous, You might think I'm crazy…”

Everything seemed to slow as McQueen looked back to Francesco, who was looking back at the American racer. Glitter seemed to fill the room, pastel fragrance of delicate roses and strong asphalt and tar. McQueen forgot about everyone else in the room, about Sally, the races, everything. There was only the craving to be tenderly embraced by the Italian racer.

“All I want is you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about this being a little short!  
> Song used: All I Want Is You by The Cars/Weezer
> 
> Yup. That Cars 2 Song. Perfect, amiright?


End file.
